


Bad Boys

by lalejandra



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Age Play, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, F/M, M/M, Pegging, Safewords, Strap-Ons, Transformative Works Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-26
Updated: 2011-07-26
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:11:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: Spencer's blue eyes glow under the living room lights. "Yes, Daddy, I need you to help me be good," he tells her, and it sounds so sincere.





	Bad Boys

Sarah loves loves loves the moments like this. Brendon tied to a chair and crying, naked, his dick so hard and delicious-looking. She'll lick it in a moment, she thinks, but first -- his face was made to be slapped, and she's going to slap it.

"Say you're sorry to Daddy for being a bad boy, Brendon," she says, and slaps him. He sucks in a deep breath and she fully expects to hear begging, maybe a sob. But instead:

"Piano," he says, and when she takes a closer look at him, he's fucking _pale_ ; usually she would just unknot him, because it really doesn't take that long, but this time she grabs for the safety shears and cuts him out, hands first, then thighs, then ankles, and then she grabs for the bottles of water on the living room table, and hands one to him. She stays kneeling at his feet, though, waiting for him to -- to. Well, to be okay, but also to explain.

She's slapped him before, they both really get off on it, and he likes being called a bad boy (and a good boy, and her precious pet, and anything else she can think of)... Sometimes shit just doesn't work, she knows that, but it's pretty rare shit doesn't work with Brendon.

"Sarah, seriously," he says, and gulps down water. "You've _met_ my dad." He looks _horrified_.

"Oh," she says, and her voice comes out tiny even though she doesn't mean it to. "Oh." She can't think of anything else to say. Brendon's down for anything, all the time -- being called a dirty slut, eating her out for hours, getting fucked with a dildo almost as big around as her fist, whips, actual chains, coming on her face and then cleaning her with his tongue, seriously, anything. Except, apparently, calling her Daddy.

She waits until he's drained the bottle of water. "You know, I don't actually want to -- to, like, pretend to be your _actual_ father. You know that, right?"

He looks frustrated and annoyed, so that's fair, because that's how she feels, too. Except she also feels bad, because she just sprang it on him and he clearly hadn't been prepared, and now they're not going to fuck or play or anything, and he's been away so damn long -- fuck.

"I know," he finally says, and the knot in her stomach releases. "But I don't think. I don't think I can do that. But if you want it --"

"No, I don't --" She stops, rubs her eyes. "I don't want you to do something just because I want it."

"No, I mean, I could --" He hesitates a little, looks so unsure. "I know someone who maybe. Would. If you wanted."

"Wait, what?" It's not like they've never talked about bringing someone in before, but Brendon's, whatever, famous, and he's enough for her (most of the time), so it never went anywhere. But to think that he's actually got someone in mind, that it's not just academic... is weird.

"I have to, to talk to -- this person. First." Brendon's starting to blush, which, at least, is better than the bone-pale he was earlier.

"Okay," she says slowly. "Just let me know, I guess, and we can... figure out a scene for... this person." Brendon's flush gets redder, which is really hot, and also makes her wonder if the person he's talking about is _Ryan Ross_ or someone it would be equally bizarre to top. If she comes home one day and finds, like, Gabe Saporta in her living room, calling her "Daddy," she isn't quite sure if she'll actually be able to get through a scene.

"Yeah," says Brendon, and he reaches out a hand for her bottle of water. She gives it to him easily, and her hand brushes his cock, getting hard again. Her mouth waters. She still wants to suck him, and she still -- she still _wants_.

"Hey," she says. "Will you fuck me? Just us?" She spreads her legs, just on the floor, so he can see up her skirt where even his safeword couldn't dry her the fuck out, and she shivers a little when he licks his lips.

*

"Hey, are you here? You okay?" she calls out, before the door is even closed. Surfing alone was okay, but Brendon didn't answer any of her texts about bringing home Del Taco, plus he ignored the one about how she wants to fuck him with her biggest dick until he cries, which is unusual for him. Normally that would get her at least a winky face. "Bren?"

The living room is dark, curtains pulled tight, and when she flips the lights on, the first thing she sees is someone _not Brendon_ kneeling on the carpet. The hair and body are all wrong, that's what she notices first. Then: _Spencer_. And he's _holding one of her dicks and a harness._

Whoa. Whoa, wait, wait -- she takes a couple of deep breaths and counts to herself until her head's clear.

"Hey, Spence?" she says, going for cautious and interested. She drops her bag, wetsuit, and towel by the door, and moves forward a little.

"Spencer was bad," says Brendon, and Sarah jerks a little, turns to look for him. He's sitting in his corner, where she puts him when he's not allowed to jerk off, the chair she likes to tie him to. He's only wearing underwear, which is the rules -- underwear or naked on the chair, no other clothes. Spencer's only wearing underwear, too, but Spencer's is pink and grey striped and is, she's pretty sure, from the girls' section.

"I tried to punish him," continues Brendon, "but he wanted to wait for you and get punished properly."

Sarah kicks off her flip flops and moves them out of the way.

"Brendon, you're not allowed to punish people," she chastises. She doesn't exactly know what's going on, but she knows how to play a role, meet and match Brendon, whatever he's doing. "That's my job."

"That's what I told him," Spencer says, looking up from under his hair. "That's what I told him, Daddy."

Her breath gets stuck in her throat and she _feels_ her body start to open up, get wet, swell.

 _Fuck_ , she wants it so bad.

"Spence, bad boys don't get to talk," she says gently, and puts a hand on top of Spencer's head.

"Yeah," says Brendon in an annoyingly sing-song voice, like a fucking ten year old. They've never done age play, but apparently for Brendon it goes along with Spencer calling her Daddy and everyone getting punished. And she can definitely be into that. She doesn't let herself gasp, though, because this is her scene and she's going to fucking run it.

"Brendon, you're naughty, too, breaking rules," she says. "You sit still, and maybe if you're a good boy, I'll let you come later with only a little punishment. But if you're bad, I'm going to put you in a cage and spank you until you cry." She keeps her voice even -- not a threat, but the best kind of promise. Brendon gets to decide what he wants, where he wants to take this, and she's happy to go either way.

She strokes Spencer's head. "Now, Spencer, tell Daddy what you did wrong."

Spencer looks up, red-eyed, and if she didn't know this was all pretend, she'd swear he was actually miserable. "I let Brendon touch me, Daddy. I know I wasn't supposed to, but I did anyway."

Nice. "Did it feel good?" she asks, stroking his cheek. She kind of wishes he'd shaved the beard -- it definitely takes something away from the play for him to have it, and she's never gotten to see him without it. "Did you like it?"

Spencer looks away, looks down.

"You can tell Daddy," she coaxes. "It's okay, you can tell Daddy your secrets."

"Daddy, I liked it," says Spencer in a rush. "It felt so good, but I knew it was naughty, and that made it feel even better."

"It _is_ naughty," she agrees. "You know only Daddy gets to touch you, but Daddy only wants to touch good boys."

"I can be good," Spencer promises. She touches his chin and exerts a little pressure and he looks right up. He's definitely done this before, she decides; he knows how this kind of thing goes, it's obvious, and that's... unexpected. He always seemed like such a _bro._

Of course, so does Brendon, except Brendon also wears pink hoodies, which she knows is a weird thing to use to separate them.

"I'm so disappointed that you let Brendon touch you," she says, petting his throat carefully. She wishes Brendon had given her some _warning_ , because she'd've liked to at least get Spencer's hard limits, his safeword, something. But she can also recognize the virtue of a surprise attack. "You're usually such a good boy, Spence, I hate to have to punish you. But if I don't punish you, you'll be bad again and again, won't you?"

Spencer's blue eyes glow under the living room lights. "Yes, Daddy, I need you to help me be good," he tells her, and it sounds so sincere.

"Give me my cock, Spencer," she orders, "and go kneel next to the couch, by the arm rest." He shoves the cock at her, and the harness, and unfolds his legs. He's so _tall_ , and his dick is hard, has clearly been hard, the front of his, his _panties_ are all wet. When he's kneeling, though, he's short enough.

She turns away to pull on the rubber harness over her bikini bottom, and thinks, _Fuck, I need a condom and lube_ \-- except a pile of condoms and a brand new pump bottle of lube are right there on the living room table, next to four bottles of water, Brendon's favorite belt, a leather cock ring, the shiny stainless steel cock cage, their second-best flogger, a purple butt plug, a slightly smaller black one, and a bowl of pretzels. She grins, knowing Brendon and Spencer can't see her with her back to them.

Goddamn, she loves this kid.

She unrolls a condom, careful to grab one sized for the dildo instead of Brendon -- he's a good size that fits comfortably inside her, but nowhere near this nine inch monster she loves -- and then she's ready.

Sarah's careful not to look over at Brendon as she goes over to the couch -- so much as an eyebrow waggle and she might fuck this up by giggling, and she definitely doesn't want to do that. Spencer's giving them something, showing them something they wouldn't ever have seen, and she's going to take that as seriously as she can.

When she gets to him, she strokes his head; he'd seemed to like that.

"Who's gonna be a good boy for me?" she asks softly. "Are you gonna be a good boy for Daddy, Spence?"

"I am, Daddy, I can be good, I promise. Let me -- I want to make you feel good, Daddy, good boys make their daddies feel good, right? That's what you always say?"

"That's right, baby, good boys make their daddies feel good. Spencer, you should show me how sorry you are that you let Brendon touch you. Only Daddy should get to touch you, Spence," she says, stroking her cock a little.

"I know, Daddy, I know," he says, and his mouth is so red and open, and his tongue curls out a little, and she pushes forward, letting the head of her dick brush against his mouth.

"Good boy," she breathes, and pushes her cock into his mouth, lets him tongue and lap at her; he doesn't even make a face at the taste of condom, just takes her in as much as he can, lets her stretch out his lips around her giant fucking cock.

He pulls off and takes a breath. "I like it, Daddy," he says in a small voice. "I like it in my mouth."

"You can touch it," she encourages, one hand on her cock and the other on his head. He reaches a hand up and wraps it around the base of her dick, pushing the harness against her clit, and just _takes it_. Her knees are all watery at the sight of him sucking her dick. She doesn't think she's _ever_ thought of Spencer on his knees, not even after Brendon told her that Spence had given him his first blowjob one lonely night in his awful little apartment.

He's just always been so _Spencer_ , and now he's sucking her dick. Her hips jerk, shoving her cock further into his throat, and he whines around it.

She groans.

"You're such a good boy, Spence, you're doing so good. Do you want Daddy to punish you now? Then you'll know you're forgiven, that you're really a good boy again." She slowly pulls her dick out of his mouth and waits.

"Please, Daddy, please punish me, I know I was bad," he begs, rubbing his face on her dick, his beard; she wonders what it would feel like if she could feel the skin of her dick, feel the prickling of his beard against it. Would it hurt? Would it feel good, like Brendon's stubble on her thighs?

"Spencer, Daddy's gonna take good care of you, I promise," she says, and reaches out for the belt. Brendon's waving at her from the corner, and she looks up, ready to snap at him, but he's shaking his head, sliding a finger across his throat.

 _Flogger_ , he mouths at her, pointing back to the table. She drops the belt back down and hefts the flogger. It's the leather one, not her favorite -- too soft, no sting, hardly any marks. Okay, so Spence isn't into painplay, she can roll with that.

When she looks up to nod at Brendon, he's back to sitting on the chair with his legs spread and his dick hanging out, though, back in the scene.

"I'm going to help you be a good boy now, Spence," she says. "Lean over the couch, okay?" And he does, which is exactly the opposite of Brendon, who always has to fight and push and be held down -- Spencer just does what she says. It's so different, and so hot in a way she's just not used to anymore. It's not better than Brendon, just... totally different.

She brings the flogger down gently on his ass -- besides it being leather and not very hard, it's over the panties, which have to dull the sting, too. They look good on him, make his torso look wider and his legs look longer, and frame his ass, which isn't bad to begin with. He's hairier than she'd've thought, a patch on his lower back and dark hair on his thighs and calves. She's seen him in swim trunks, but they cover so much more, and he can't hide anything like this, crying into the couch, shoving his ass toward her. Even his feet look different like this.

"Say you're sorry, Spence," she tells him, and brings the flogger down again.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he chokes into the couch cushion. "I'm sorry, I know I was bad, I won't do it again, Daddy, I promise!" His ass pushes out to meet the flogger each time, and she wishes his panties weren't in the way so she could hit straight onto his ass, hit right against his hole, watch him shake.

Instead, she goes for his shoulders, then back to his ass, his thighs, lets them flush up, keeps him begging -- "Please, Daddy, please, I'm so sorry, I want to be good, I want to be your good boy, Daddy" -- until she's ready to stop.

"Oh, Spencer, my good boy," she says. She's barely breathing heavy -- this has nothing on taking Brendon down, but it's still hot, still awesome. Every time Spencer calls her Daddy, she gets a little wetter; any more and she's gonna be dripping down her leg.

She's okay with that -- Brendon can clean her up.

"Daddy, am I good?" he asks as she moves him off the couch and back to the floor. She stretches his arms above his head. His cock is so hard -- there's a wet spot on the couch where he was pressed against it, humping it while she beat him.

"You are so good, baby, you are such a good boy for Daddy." She feels a swell of genuine love and affection come up for him. She runs a finger near his eye -- tears. Actual tears. Fuck yeah.

"Daddy, are you gonna..." He looks down.

"What is it, Spence? What do you want? Good boys get presents, you know that?"

"I want you to put your dick in me, Daddy" he says softly, and the bottom just goes right out of her stomach. _Fuck. Yeah._ She hears a moan from Brendon's side of the room, and when she looks over, he's sitting on his hands, his head tilted back against the wall.

"Brendon," she snaps, making sure to keep her hand soft on Spencer's head. "You were a bad boy, too, and you have to watch now to see what happens to bad boys like Spencer and you."

Brendon whines in his throat, but looks back at her. His eyes are huge in the bright lights of the living room, and his mouth is a bright pink, and she can feel a smirk twist her mouth.

"Brendon, don't forget, if you're a good boy, you only get punished a little." She twists her hand into Spencer's hair. "And good boys get fucked." It's Spencer's turn to whine.

"Please, Daddy," he pants, but her hand in his hair means he can't get his mouth on her cock. She's trying to figure out the logistics -- she wants to fuck him and make him suck off Brendon at the same time, but the living room isn't really set up for that kind of action.

"Get on the couch, and face Brendon," she orders, and he does, leaning against the back of the couch, kneeling on the cushions. "Take off your panties, Spencer, good boys are naked."

He scrambles to push the grey and pink striped underpants off, kicks them under the table where she won't trip, and leans forward.

"Look at Brendon," she says to him, keeping her voice low. She knows Brendon can hear her anyway. "Look at how Brendon was bad and has to sit by himself. He knows he's not allowed to come." While she talks, she pumps out lube, gets it all over her cock. Spencer's hole is shiny in the light, and it makes her suck in a breath -- when she touches him, he opens right up to let her in, shoves his ass back onto her hand and whines, although whether it's what she's doing or saying, she doesn't know. "Look at Brendon's cock, Spencer. No one's touching it. No one's licking it or sucking it, because he was bad. Bad boys have to wait for people to touch their cocks, they can't do it themselves. Aren't you glad you're a good boy?"

"Yes, Daddy --" His voice cracks and breaks when she gets three fingers in; she's not looking for his prostate, but he's getting off on this anyway, on being stretched, she thinks, just like Brendon, on pushing his body, taking as much as he can, being filled up. "Daddy, please, I want to be good, I only want to --" He cracks again when she rubs her dick against his hole. She doesn't know how much he can take, how stretched he needs to be, but he's the one who picked this dick out, so she's gonna give it to him and see.

The wide head of her dick pops into his ass with just some steady pressure, and above his cries, she can hear Brendon panting and whining, and her own heartbeat is just as loud as their noises. She's sloppy wet, wishing this was one of the double-dicks she has so she could fuck herself at the same time, but this is good, too, listening to them turn each other on, watching them watch each other, fucking into Spencer's ass, seeing him take her fucking giant dick and stick his ass out for more, push back into her and beg for it.

"Don't come," she grits out. "Good boys don't come." And he lets out a noise like a cry or a moan or a scream all together, and slumps down onto the back of the couch while she keeps fucking into him. Another twist of her hips and he _shudders_ and just takes the rest of her dick, all of it inside him.

"Brendon, he's taking it all," she says, feeling a little awed, and it's Brendon's turn to make a strangled moan while she grinds her dick into Spencer, pressed tight against his ass. She wishes she was a little bigger, so she could sit Spencer on her lap and have Brendon suck his dick. Maybe it would work if he knelt up.

"Spencer, I want you to turn really slowly. Follow my hands, okay?" she says, and he nods, and she slowly turns them until she's sitting. He gets what she's trying to do, stays on his knees, doesn't put his weight on her. She twists a little so she can see around him, and then she calls for Brendon. "C'mere," she demands, and he does, crawling, his dick bouncing outside of his boxers. She reaches around, her touch on Spencer's dick light.

"Daddy, please," Spencer moans, and she feels his calves, pressed against her, tense as he tries to move his hips. She digs in her fingernails and meets Brendon's eyes.

"Suck him," she orders, and Brendon takes him in all the way down, doesn't even stop to tease, just sucks, pulls Spencer into his throat. "Come now, Spence." She rubs a finger around his rim and feels the fluttering of his muscles as he comes down Brendon's throat. Her cheek is pressed to his ribs and they're stuck together with sweat and leftover salt from the beach, and her nipples are so hard they _hurt_ and _she's_ probably leaving a wet spot on the couch.

"Daddy," Spencer says shakily, and she realizes that she's trying to push her finger in next to her dick, so she quits it, and gently moves him around. He helps, but it feels like she's the one doing the work, which she likes -- yeah, he's definitely done this before. She pulls out of him slowly, lets him fall to his side on the couch.

"Good boy," she says softly. She pauses a moment to take in how good he looks, skin flushed, hole open and shiny. "Now you can watch Brendon."

"Yes," says Spencer, and obediently turns his head to look from her to Brendon. Brendon's only got eyes for Sarah's shiny wet cock bouncing in front of him. She strips off the condom, tosses it near Spencer's panties, unhooks the harness. When she pushes it down and steps out, she also pulls off her bikini bottoms, totally soaked.

"Brendon, I know you know you were bad," she says sternly. She's so wet that walking feels weird, her pussy lips rubbing against each other, wet dripping out of her. "Bad boys don't get to come until they say they're sorry."

"I'm not sorry," he tells her, leaning back on his heels. Fuck, his cock is gorgeous. "I liked touching Spencer."

"I bet you did," she growls, and pounces, knocking him backward until he's lying on the floor, tugs down his boxers, doesn't even pull them all the way off before she crouches over him and rubs her pussy on his cock, feeling how they slide together wet and slick, how her body wants to suck him in every time he bumps over her slit. She puts more weight on him, slides up and down the shaft of his cock, not going over the head. He digs fingers into her thighs, her hips; she's gonna have bruises, and it feels so good. "Bad boy," she chants, "so bad, so bad," and he tries to move her, tries to get her to sit on his dick, but all in her own time.

"I'm so bad, I know it," he gasps under her, his hips jerking. "Fuck, I --"

"Say you're sorry that you played with my toy," she says, digging fingernails into his chest, scraping one over a nipple just to feel his body move under her, just to hear his gasps.

"I'm sorry, Sarah, I'm sorry, please, fuck me, please --" And she does, rising up to slide down, pulling him inside her body, frictionless, perfect, so wet, he can't possibly last, but neither will she -- she rolls her hips, pushes a thumb against her clit, and she's gone, convulsing on top of him while he comes inside her, holding her to him, knees bent against her back.

She slumps down onto him, sinks teeth into his neck.

"Fuck," he moans into her skin.

"Fuck," she hears, and looks over her shoulder to see Spencer sprawled on the couch. She can tell the scene's over -- he looks almost completely different, back to being a huge bro. He's got a hand on his cock, even though it's not hard.

"Fuck," she mimics, smiling, and slowly moves off Brendon. "Shit --"

"We'll clean it up," says Brendon, waving a lazy hand -- meaning she's gonna clean it up, the same way she cleans it up when the dogs puke. Awesome.

"I'll clean it up," offers Spencer, and before she can roll her eyes, he's on the floor, crawling toward her. He pulls her by the ankles until her head's on Brendon's stomach, spreads her open, licks into her.

She squeals, she can't help it, his tongue is rough against her clit, and warm, and so -- he rubs it against her slit, and she _feels_ the wetness inside her sliding out, sliding into his mouth, fuck, everything they've done, he's called her _Daddy_ for fuck's sake, but this feels like the dirtiest --

"Shit," she breathes, "oh, god," and he keeps going, licking her, lapping up Brendon's come and her come, cleaning her, pausing to move to her thighs, and then back to her slit, sucking on her clit until she comes again under his mouth, one finger tracing her opening -- gathering wet, she realizes, because then it's at her ass.

"Yeah," Brendon purrs, "she loves that, fuck yeah, Spence," but before he can even get his finger all the way into her ass, she's coming again, and her whole body shakes apart.

*

"What I really want," declares Brendon, "is a fucking pizza."

"Shit, yeah, pizza," says Spence. "And a beer."

"Breadsticks," says Sarah, and pushes herself off the carpet. Her limbs are like jelly; she has no idea how these dudes are sitting up straight. "And a shower."

"First," Brendon and Spencer say at the same time.

"You fucking wish, assholes." She leans on the table to stand, gets her legs under her. "Shit, someone come hold me up." She laughs at herself, but Brendon and Spencer scramble to her, one on each side.

"You take her, Spence," Brendon decides. "I'll call in for the pizza."

"Got it." Spencer slides an arm around her waist. "You're okay?"

"Happens every time," she lies. "Weak knees in the face of orgasms."

When they get to the bathroom and she turns on the shower, Spence doesn't leave, just stands awkwardly by the door.

"You okay?" she asks, untying her bikini top. She can't believe she didn't even get naked.

There's a flash of something in Spencer's eyes. "Just -- wondering if we're gonna do that again."

"I guess it depends on whether you and Brendon are good boys," she teases, but his eyes flash again.

"I can be a good boy for you, Daddy," he says, dropping his head a little.

"Yeah?" she asks, and leaves the allure of the shower to go back toward Spencer, press him against the door. "Daddy likes good boys, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Spencer's voice is barely there, and she loves how this takes him apart, wants to watch him break down over and over.

"If you and Brendon can be good this afternoon, maybe Daddy will give you a surprise tonight," she says in a low voice, and kisses him, letting her tongue out to trace his lips. "Go on back downstairs and tell Brendon, he's probably already getting in trouble."

"Hey -- uh --" Spencer's voice is back to normal. "Seriously, though," he says, and she pulls away a little. "This is okay?"

She presses another kiss against his mouth. "Seriously," she tells him, "Brendon wouldn't have brought you here if it wasn't."

"Okay," he says, his voice as soft as hers, and he kisses her back before he leaves the bathroom.

Even though she just came a whole shitload of times, she totally jerks off in the shower thinking about watching Brendon fuck Spencer and watching Spencer suck Brendon's dick, and listening to Spencer call her Daddy. Fuck yeah.

  



End file.
